


A Game Of Cat And Mouse

by LilFantaPants



Series: The Seven Sinful Brothers - Satan [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Demons, Drinking, Explicit Language, Following, Genderfluid Character, Hangover, Hell, High School, Nausea, Other, PLEASE READ TAGS, School, Smoking, Stalking, Vomiting, dominating character, genderfluidity, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25925074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilFantaPants/pseuds/LilFantaPants
Summary: The newest student at RAD gets paired with Satan for their first assignment.
Relationships: Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Series: The Seven Sinful Brothers - Satan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879642
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. Prey

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ TAGS :)
> 
> Frankie (OC) identifies as genderfluid and is AFAB.
> 
> Frankie's pronoun preference changes between she/her, he/him and they/them. Kindly note that Frankie is a purely fictitious character, and is not intended to act as a representation of all genderfluid persons, as everybody is unique and may have different perspectives on gender identity. 
> 
> This chapter is rated SFW, however the story is due to turn NSFW in later chapters so please bear that in mind if you are wishing to stay tuned.
> 
> This is set very early on in the canonical game timeline so there should be little to no spoilers. There's going to be a bit of a slow-burn to get things going due to this.

Spending lunchtimes seated alone in a school cafeteria was certainly not a new occurrence to me, but at the age of 23 I hadn't expected to be reliving the experience. It had been only three days since my sudden transfer to the Devildom, and it had been far more more eventful than I could have imagined. The students may have been of a different breed here, but their behaviour was strikingly similar; the gossiping and smirking behind my back brought me once again to my memory of being the freakish, singled out teenager. My name was uttered in hushed tones amongst my demonic peers, the new girl from the human world who managed to trick Mammon into a pact. One might've thought that this would deter the residents of the Devildom from trying to eat me, but from what I had so far been able to overhear, it had only seemingly increased the proverbial bounty upon my head. And yet, this aside, I knew it would only get worse, it was a matter of time. A deep sigh heaved from my chest as my fork poked and prodded at the spiced hell-hog sausage pasta. Not only did it look unappetising, but my mortal body was far-from acclimated to such stuff. It would appear that the Devildom's local delicacies such as hemlock greens, havoc devil, and hellspawn newt didn't exactly excite my palette. As I chewed on my pasta I could hear the whispers circling around me, and I felt the heat of countless blazing eyes that studied me like prey. Most of these demons I could easily brush off and ignore, but there was one particular pair of eyes that I just couldn't tear myself away from. A set of vivid green irises pierced through me as if they could tunnel into my soul, captivating me. I tried to look away, but his stare bore deep into me, and try as I might to avert my gaze I kept coming back to meet his. Goodness knows who he was trying to fool with that book in his hand, for I hadn't seen him once turn the to next page of The Hound Of The Baskervilles. His younger brother Asmodeus was babbling away beside him, clearly too much of a narcissist to notice that the Avatar of Wrath wasn't exactly indulging in their one-sided conversation. No, Satan was far too preoccupied in eyeing me up, in the exact same manner that a lion studies a juicy, fat meal before pouncing in for the kill. Perhaps he would toy with me first, like in the way that a cat will torment a mouse before spilling their entrails. Or maybe he will wait until later to stalk me in the pitch blackness of the Devildom, in the same manner that a leopard stealthily hunts their prey in the dark.

Unfortunately for Satan, nature was calling for me. His eyes watched me intently as I arose from the bench and slipped out into the bustling hallway. Once out into the academy corridor, I finally felt as if I had been able to catch my breath; whatever trance that blonde-haired son of an asshole had cast over me had been seeming broken. My chest felt free. The preening and gossiping succubi cliques turned sharply to look at me, deathly silent upon my entering into the girl's bathroom. My eyes kept to the floor and I made for the first vacant cubicle, dangling my handbag strap over the door hook. Whilst seated on the toilet, I noticed the many pairs of feet that were beginning to form a crowd on the other side of the cubicle. What in Hell's name is this, a damned intervention? Let a girl piss in peace. Of course, when I did come to open the door, I was unsurprised to be greeted by a swarm of succubi. “Uh, out of my way.” My tone was firm, I wasn't going to take any nonsense from these low-level demons. As expected, they didn't actually move out of the way, and instead a few scoffs reverberated among the group as I barged my way through regardless, making my way to the sinks. As I washed my hands I admired my appearance in the mirror before me, mentally noting how my lipstick had impressively stayed fairly presentable even after eating lunch. This colour looks so pretty on me, I think I'll wear it more often. Further hisses and and huffs ensued as I pushed my way past the demonesses. The time on my wrist read 12:54. Although a little early, I may as well start making my way to class. At least it never hurt to be punctual.

“Frankie? You dropped this in the cafeteria...” I turned on my heels to see Satan closing in on me, holding my DDD in his outstretched palm. Bewildered, my hands reached down to pat at my empty jacket pocket. Had he actually just followed me here, waiting outside the girl's restroom to ambush me when alone and caught unaware? The demon was smiling kindly, but my mind recalled Lucifer's first warning he offered in regards to his younger brother. I was to never trust the Avatar of Wrath's friendly smile, for it is all simply an act.  
“Oh Satan, thanks! Some days I'm sure I'd lose my head if it weren't attached to me...” Friendly, conversational... Yes, this should keep me on the right side of Satan's volatile temperament.  
“It's no trouble. Say, don't you have Human World History next?” Emerald green eyes glinted at me, his eyebrow raised.  
“Yes, how did you..?” I started, confused. Has he been checking my RAD schedule?  
“Wonderful, I shall walk with you then.” Satan abruptly cut me off, his gleaming smile widening. “So, I ought to congratulate you on your first pact with a demon. I'm impressed.” Right, so this is his reason for the sudden chance encounter.  
“Well, in all honesty I'm surprised it worked.” It wasn't a lie.  
“So tell me, why did you do it?” The wrathful demon's questioning made my insides squirm into knots, but something about him compelled me to tell him all he wished to hear.  
“Um, it was actually Levi's suggestion... Mammon owed him money and he wanted it back, and so Levi helped me make the pact so I could order Mammon to pay back what was owed.”  
“Huh.” Satan's fingers pressed to his chin pensively. “So, Leviathan gets exactly what he wants, and you end up with my scumbag of a brother for an ally. Interesting.” When put that bluntly, perhaps Leviathan had taken the advantage in the situation.  
“The Devildom's a dangerous place,” I shrugged.  
“Right,” the wicked bookworm laughed at my expense, “And you really think Mammon's going to step in and save you? His selfish nature is unmatched by any demon I know; he'd sooner sell you off to the highest bidder than come to your aid.” Those cursed jade eyes had me weak and entranced. Words evaded me, and my mouth bobbed open and shut as I tried and failed to provide an eloquent response. “But here we are, classroom C-6. After you... Francesca.” The low, gruff manner in which he uttered my name ran shivers up my spine and caused my breath to choke in my throat.

The hour-long lesson felt like it would last an eternity. Satan had taken the desk directly behind me, and that haunting stare of his that burned like hellfire into my back distracted my attentions, much to the annoyance of our tutor. In my case, nothing had been learnt from the entire lecture. I had learnt nothing more than the fact that had some power over me, and I was weak to his charm. 

“...Francesca Walker, I'm pairing you with Satan. That concludes today's lesson, I look forward to your presentations next week.” Frozen in my chair, I was stunned. Paired with Satan for what? The students around me all rose from their seats and packed up their bags and so I followed their lead. As I began to walk away from my desk a hand reached out to touch my arm, and I turned to face the smirking Avatar of Wrath.  
“Lucky me, to have you for my partner,” He began, and his smoky cologne enveloped me as he leaned in closer. “A wonderful opportunity for me to get to know you better.” I blinked like a rabbit caught in headlights, frozen still. With a tug at my arm, he escorted me out of class. “Tell me, what lesson do you have next?”   
“I actually don't have any more lessons for today. What about you?” The wrathful demon beamed a smile back at me.  
“I don't have any more lessons either. How about we head to the library? We can get started on our assignment.” He asked, but the tone was more demanding. However, I had other, pressing issues that required my attention.  
“Oh, sorry Satan, I can't right now. I didn't get the chance to bring anything down here and I need to go shopping to get some stuff. But maybe later?” This response did not please him in the slightest, I could tell that much by the glint of disappointment that flashed in his eyes – but he nodded, understanding my predicament.

It was way after dinnertime before I had returned to the House of Lamentation. My arms laden-down with numerous bags, I shuffled down the plush carpeted hallway to my bedroom. Dropping the bags at the bedroom door with an exhausted groan, I reached for the door handle.  
“You're back.” Surprised, I turned to see Satan coolly leant up against the kitchen door-frame, one arm positioned on the frame above his head, his other hand resting upon his hip. “Sadly Beel's eaten the leftovers from dinner...” He pushed himself upright, swiftly closing the gap between us. “But I thought we could eat together instead. I could order a pizza to share?” My knees weakened under his intense green gaze. “Allow me to help you with these bags, you can show me all the wonderful things that you have purchased.”  
“Uh, it's personal!” I blurted out, his hands raised up and he took a retreating step, chuckling at my panic-stricken visage.  
“Okay, okay. If that's how it is then that's fine too.” For a moment, less than a second - I was sure that he radiated pure light-hearted warmth. My hand fumbled at the door-handle, and before I knew it, my foot was tangled in a bag handle and I was tumbling face-first towards the wooden panelled floor of my bedroom. I winced and pushed my hands out to break the fall, but I felt a speeding embrace grip around my waist. “Oh Francesca, what am I going to do with you?” He gently lowered me to sit on the floor while he untangled my foot. “You're lucky that I happened to be nearby...”  
“Yes, why is that? I seem to be bumping into you an awful lot...” His eyebrow twitched slightly, before a smirk crept across his poker-face.  
“Mere coincidence, I assure you. Now, allow me to help you up.” He stood, proffering his hand out to help me up. My hand held his, and he pulled me up with such ease, and his free arm reached to cup my lower back, drawing me close against his body. Our faces were so close I felt his cool breath against my cheek, and as I looked into his eyes I could see that they were a dazzling mix of emerald, peridot and citrine. There's just something about him. Something far more than the inescapable fact that he is terrifyingly beautiful. He's broken, resentful somehow – I can see it in his face when he doesn't think anyone is watching, and I can see it in his eyes. Do the others see it too, or do they choose to turn a blind-eye to it? Or is it something only I see in him. Perhaps I only see it because I've seen that look before...


	2. In Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie is suspicious of Satan's whereabouts.

“Ya know, eating humans like you is kind of a special treat down here - ya got that?” Mammon grumbled as he stabbed at his blackbelly newt legs. “It ain’t fair that I gotta sit next to your stupid face while I eat my breakfast. I don’t wanna eat this regular shit while you’re sat next to me lookin’ like some hunk of juicy, premium-grade roast Iriomote musk hog.”  
“How delightful,” I responded frostily, “I’m sure you’ll learn to get over it.” A low chuckle rumbled across the table from a few of the other dining demons.  
“Mm, Frankie? You just have to tell me what lipstick you’re wearing, it would look amazing on me…” Asmodeus purred as he studied me, his head cocked to the side, cheek resting against his palm.  
“Oh, I found it in Majolish… I can’t remember the name, Rora-chan? Rori-sama?”  
“RURI-CHAN?” The normally quiet otaku third-born cried out suddenly.  
“Uh, something like that. Are they a big deal around here or..”  
“W-WHAA? HOW have you never heard of Ruri-Chan? What kind of normie has never heard of my sweet Ruri-Chan! She is the love of my life! I would DIE for my Ruri-Chan.” Levi interrupted me, wide-eyed and horrified.  
“Uhhh.. Right.” Jesus, this guy. “So, yeah… Asmo, it’s from the Ruri-Chan collection. I think the colour was called Asuko-chan?” Levi squealed in horror, and Asmodeus’ attentions had already turned from my lipstick to admiring his reflection in a spoon.  
“AZUKI-CHAN? I need to go to Majolish, I HAVE to have the whole Ruri-Chan collection!” He yelped, his voice inching higher and higher.  
“Levi, do you even wear makeup?” I questioned, puzzled.  
“NO! Ugh, what kind of normie do you take me for? Of course I’m not going to wear it, but I HAVE to have all the merchandise for my darling Ruri-Chan, my true 2D love!” His face blushed a deep scarlet hue, and his amber irises hid behind his purple fringe. I rose up out of my chair to refill my glass of blood orange juice.  
“Levi, please.” Lucifer grumbled from the head of the table. “It’s far too early in the morning for your shrieking. As for you, Francesca…” He turned to me, his voice cold as he sipped at his coffee. “I find that your choice in skirt length to be less than appropriate for a student at RAD. As Mammon so eloquently put it, you look like a snack.” Alright Dad.

“Whaddya doin’ in there human? You’re gonna make us late, not that I care…” Mammon called out from the bedroom.  
“WOMAN STUFF!” I growled as I wrestled with the tampon packaging. When are these sanitary product companies going to make these things easier and quieter to open?  
“Well, hurry up! Lucifer’s gonna punish ya if you get lates on your report card ya know?” My eyes rolled, he’s clearly pretending not to be scared of his older brother. I threw the wrapper in the bin and flushed the toilet. “Alright, woman stuff done! Now let’s go!”  
“Hang on!” I called back to him as I washed my hands. “I’ll be out in just a sec!”

Mammon walked with me to the academy, reciting all the modelling gigs that he had lined up, telling me about how he’s such a ‘big deal’ down here in the Devildom, and how I’m lucky to be in a pact with a demon like him. I didn’t care for his boasting. Instead, Mammon’s voice was tuned out, my thoughts had drifted elsewhere. Satan hadn’t answered my message this morning. Yesterday he was… I don’t know, nice? And today it’s like he doesn’t even exist. “Have you seen Satan today?” I asked, cutting Mammon off from his money-grabbing scheme ramblings.  
“Huh? Human, are ya even listenin’ to me here, this is important stuff ya hear? I’m like the big hotshot around here after Lucifer, and you’re asking about the bookworm? Dunno where he is, why’d ya even care?” Mammon’s brow furrowed into a deep frown.  
“He wasn’t at breakfast this morning.” I stated, my eyes down to the Human World Histories textbook I was carrying in my arms.  
“So?” Mammon was bewildered as to why his brother deserved my focus. “Ya know human, you should really stay away from Satan, ya can’t trust him.” I smirked, recalling a similar exchange I had with the wicked fourth-born.  
“People say I shouldn’t trust you either, Mammon.” 

Satan wasn’t in the Human World History lecture that day, and he wasn’t to be seen at the cafeteria either. In fact, nobody had seen him. I barely knew him, but it still struck me as strange for him to miss school; save for Lucifer I would have guessed that he was the most intellectual of all the brothers. He seemed to place academia in such high regard, and in every spare moment his face would be buried deep in a book. So why would he skip RAD? It was out of character for him. I checked my DDD for the thousandth time that day. Mammon had a point, why did I care? What spell did Satan cast on me for him to fill my mind in this way? It was hard enough trying to focus when he would only watch me, but now I was convinced that he had cursed me in some way. 

I walked back to the House of Lamentation with Mammon, who kept grumbling about the game of Texas Hold’em poker that he had lost against Solomon in their free period. From what I could understand from his incoherent storytelling, the scummy second-born demon had gotten far too cocky very early in their game, and Solomon had seemingly learnt that the Avatar of Greed had a tell. So, Solomon used his newly acquired knowledge to coax Mammon into going all in on a hand that he inevitably lost. Personally, I found it to be quite an amusing tale. 

Leviathan was on dinner duty that evening, so of course we ended up getting pizzas delivered. This pleased Beelzebub enormously, who ate two hellfire meat feast pizzas, four boxes of spicy pepperoni cheese twists, an extra-large portion of garlic bread, and still had the room in his bottomless gut to finish off my spicy rainbow vegetable pizza. The food was surprisingly good compared to the regular fare available here in the Devildom, but I wasn’t overly hungry. My eyes laid upon the empty seat across from me. It wasn’t that I was necessarily worried about his absence, I’m sure that the wrathful demon was more than capable of looking after himself – but I somehow, felt uneasy without him around. He was probably just holed up in his room amongst his mountainous stacks of books. I excused myself early from the table to check on him, but he didn’t answer my knocking on his bedroom door. He wasn’t in the House of Lamentation’s library either. There was only one other place I could think to look, so I pulled on my purple pea-coat, slipped my feet into a pair of ballerina flats and set out into the pitch-black night of the Devildom. I felt uneasy, my skin starting to prickle and itch. Finally, I began to climb the stairs of the Royal Library. I’m not sure how, but I knew that he was close, I could feel it in my body.

I was greeted by the comforting aroma of musky old books as I entered the non-fiction ward. It’s a smell that reminded me of my childhood, it took me back to my Grandmother’s house with her collection of old fairy-tale stories that she had collected as a little girl. We would visit on Sunday afternoons, and I would sink myself into a beanbag with a new story each time. A smile came to my lips as I recalled those memories. My finger danced along the leather spines that lined up on unending shelves.

“You’ve found me.”


	3. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie finds Satan, and Satan finds Frankie.

A familiar voice called out from behind me, and I turned to see the emerald eyes that I had been searching for. They sparkled like a pair of beacons in the ambient glow of the Royal Library. He was a danger to me, but I felt immediately at ease. He was here with me now. I felt compelled to move closer to him, as if under his spell my feet carried me a little nearer. A thin smile crept upon Satan’s lips. “Have you been here all day?” He never answered in words, but the way that he raised his eyebrow and smirked at me told me all I needed to know. “Why?”  
“Why do you think?”  
“I-I don’t know…” I stammered, feeling uneasy, fingers fiddling with the edge of my coat sleeve. The wrathful demon shook his head, grinning a flash of white teeth as he chuckled, his arms widespread.  
“Don’t you see?” His green stare was intense on me as he studied me through his flop of blonde hair. My feet were firmly planted to the floor, my fingers and thumbs fidgeting. “We’re alone.” He breathed, quickly closing what was left of the distance between us. Shivers rippled down my spine as a long, lithe finger pushed my hair away from my face. A wicked grin spread along his face as he revelled in his effect on me. “I knew you would come, Francesca.” My breath caught painfully in a sharp lump in my throat. The way that he said my full name always made my knees want to buckle. He knew this of course; it was no coincidence. Every action of he made was always meticulously planned and thoughtfully considered. His hand pressed to my cheek, and I was weak to his charms as he gazed into my eyes.  
“You did?” My tongue struggled on the two small, simple words as if they had been the most complex collection of syllables. The wicked bookworm’s face softened as he nodded.  
“I’m surprised that it took you this long, Francesca. Dare I say, I’m a little disappointed.” My ribcage constricted around my lungs and my breaths painfully shallowed. My feet shuffled nervously. His barbed words stung regardless of the gentle smile painted on his porcelain face.

Satan led me away from the book-lined corridors to the study area, where we approached a table with several books in various stages of reading. My pea-coat was slipped away from my shoulders and a chair was pulled out for me. He had this air of gentility about him, but I was also incredibly aware that he could terrify me just as easily as he might seduce me. “I took the liberty of finding some books that might prove resourceful to us in our Human World Histories project.” My eyes pored over the text on the open pages, my mind alight with ideas.  
“Satan, these are great, this one here especially we could reference in our argument. I also found some journals online, one in particular would really support this viewpoint.” I glanced up to see the blond fourth-born blushing, an ever so slight smile danced upon his lips - it wasn’t some display, nor was it a mask to hide his true intentions. Genuine, sweet joy, nothing more, and no less.  
“Good. I like that specific text too.” Satan’s golden brow furrowed as he noticed me itch at my arm but decided to dismiss it. His studious gaze only added to the discomfort that ravaged under my skin. I needed to break free. My feet lifted to perch at the edge of my seat, and I pulled one of the larger volumes to rest on my thighs. Clumsy fingertips played and fumbled with the pages in my lap.  
“So, I was thinking, as the subject of our presentation is the history of witch trials, we should also include the trials of the Lancashire witches.” The demon across the table cocked his head, evidently puzzled. “The 1612 trials of the Pendle witches are among the most famous witch trials in British history.” I continued, as Satan leaned forward eagerly. “I personally find it quite interesting, as the trials actually made an impactful change on the legal system in England.”  
“I… I am not familiar with this.” He almost seemed dissatisfied in his lack of knowledge. “But you have caught my intrigue. We should include this in our presentation, I’m sure this will be new information to a vast majority of our class.” Satan paused, before pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his wrinkled nose. “Please stop that.”  
“Stop what?” I looked back at him, utterly bewildered.  
“Your foot is jiggling, it’s making the table move,” He sighed, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. “Is something the matter?”  
“I, uh, it’s nothing.” My cheeks burned as I bowed my head so I might hide behind my jagged blonde fringe.  
“No, you’re uncomfortable somehow.” Goosepimples prickled over me. “You haven’t stopped fidgeting since you got here.”  
“I said it’s nothing.” The tone of my voice was more serious this time. The emerald green eyes before me narrowed. He wouldn’t understand even if I did tell him. Nobody understood, not entirely. People only said that they understood, but, how could they, truly? Satan leaned in closer to me, glancing as the light pink marks on the back of my hand where my nails had scratched at my freckled skin. “Actually I…” His eyebrow inched higher. “I’m sorry.” 

I was now running through the winding, cobbled streets to get back to my room. Luckily, Satan had elected to not chase me down, for he would have surely caught me. My sprinting feet carried me through the dimly lit alleyways and passages, avoiding the demonic figures that lurked in the pooling shadows. Nails clawed deep into hot, clammy palms; blood rushed through burning veins. My body was on fire with an itch that I couldn’t scratch. The need to escape, to break away, no, break free was an overwhelming urge that I was unable to resist any longer. Tried as I did to supress and fight it, I would fail, I would always fail against myself. Spurred on by the House of Lamentation finally coming into view, I pushed myself harder, faster. Relief flooded over me as I raced through the gothic iron-wrought gate and up the steps to the imposing mansion.

The bathroom door slammed shut and a grunt of relief escaped me as I turned the lock. My shoes were kicked free, the purple pea-coat strewn to the floor. I couldn't get out of this wretched skirt and blouse quick enough, what on earth was I thinking when I got dressed this morning. It's just not me. I felt like I was itching to break free, clawing from the inside to be released. As clumsy fingers wrestled with the zip, I caught my painted reflection in the mirror above the sink, and the sight disgusted me. Do I have to wear so much makeup, it's just gross and it doesn't even make me look good? The zip finally fell, and I yanked the skin-tight article over my wide hips and into the laundry basket, joined moments later by the blouse, a discarded bra and lacy panties. Stepping into the shower, my mind raced with worries about how I would explain my way out of this. I couldn’t keep dressing female, it made me feel truly disgusted. I had to dress for the gender I became, for if I didn’t, the itch would be as insatiable as Beelzebub’s appetite. The rushing water helps me shift the dysphoria. I felt my mind finally ease as the perfume and makeup washed away down the drain. I lathered myself up with DeMAN 2-in-1 Hair&Body, and I enjoyed the woody, citrussy aroma that scented the steam around me. The burning sensation that prickled beneath my skin was fading fast, and I was overcome with the excited high that I experience when I change. After carelessly soaping up my junk and rinsing away the foamy suds, I shut off the shower and wrapped myself up in a towel. I felt finally at ease. The itching sensation was abating. Once again, the mirrored reflection caught my eye. One day, I think I'd like to wear my towel around my hips – if only I didn't have these damned breasts to contend with.

Soft wisps of steam spilled out into the bedroom as I swung the door open. With water dripping from my damp locks, I pulled my new sports bra from yesterday's shopping bag. My teeth yanked at the label, biting it free. With force, the sports bra was stretched over my head, and I set about adjusting myself, pushing my oversized lumps towards my armpits. I took a wide elasticated bandage, which I wrapped tightly around my chest. It contorted my femininity. Binding wasn't perfect, I still had too much there in the first place, but it was better. Curse my mother's gifts. My hand reached up to run backwards through my hair, pushing it straight back. I slipped myself into a pair of black boxers and rolled a pair of socks into a rough sausage form to bulk out the front. Although a simple and temporary solution, this made me feel better, comfortable. And even though I had no plans to go back out into the Devildom tonight, just simply being dressed as a man would bring me comfort, despite the restricting tightness of a bound chest. It was pure irony that when my gender changed to male, I could breathe easier in tight bandages than I could in a regular bra. I turned to walk over to get some boy’s clothes and stopped still, petrified in place. 

“Francesca?” I winced, utterly revolted by the name.


	4. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie's gender identity is revealed.

“Francesca?” Satan’s haunting stare regarded my cringing expression carefully, before adjusting his stance to one significantly less threatening. “Or would you prefer I call you Frankie in this instance?” I blinked, surprised, before finally nodding to acknowledge his question. “Okay, Frankie. Why didn’t you tell me?” His expression was almost hurt, as if it were his fault that I had chosen not to confide in him.  
“What was I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Frankie, sometimes my body wants to be a girl, other times it needs to be a boy, it decides this all by itself and I have absolutely no way to change it?” I scoffed mockingly; my voice far higher pitched than I would’ve liked it to be.  
“Exactly that,” He smiled sincerely, “If that’s how you would describe it.” Vibrant green eyes searched over me, and slowly stepped forward, right hand outstretched before him. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Frankie, I’m Satan!” His hand was out for me to shake, and he wore a stupid grin on his face that I couldn’t help but laugh at as we shook hands. “I must say Frankie,” his cheek bulged as his tongue poked at it playfully, “You might’ve put one too many socks down there, it makes you look like you’re overcompensating for something...” I looked down and... he was right. Another laugh erupted from me. How could he make me feel at ease when I was so incredibly vulnerable?  
“Excuse me,” I said as I turned around, pulling one of the socks out and readjusting my bulge, before turning back around. “Better?”  
“Much. I was starting to feel like I needed to compete.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “How about we get you dressed, and we go out and get you a drink?” Back in my world, Satan had quite the reputation for being evil incarnate... But the demon before me, he almost commanded my trust in him. I felt that I wanted to give in to his guise. Not once had he completely frightened me, never had he truly mistreated me. Strangely, I felt utterly at ease in his presence – like he was the only honest demon here in this damned pit of oblivion. He saw straight through to my very core, and he didn't flinch.

We stood in front of my bedroom mirror together as two men. Satan had leant me a pair of trainers that happened to match the shirt I was wearing, and I had paired it with a slightly loose pair of jeans that slung low on my hips and skimmed over my ass, showing a hint of the waistband of my boxers. The sleeves of my shirt had been roughly rolled up to bare my forearms. I studied his posture and copied, to the best of my ability anyway. “Frankie, are you ready?” I grabbed the packet of cigarettes and lighter from the desk drawer and stuffed my DDD into my back pocket. “You don’t…” The bookworm stalled himself as he noticed my raising brow and shrugged off what was left of his statement. Francesca might not smoke, but I fucking well do.

Mammon walked past us as we made our way through the hallway, a puzzled expression plastered on his face. He didn’t seem to recognise me though, and instead just shrugged off my existence and wished his younger brother a good night out with his new friend. A stupid grin grew on my face at this, I wasn’t just Francesca in boy’s clothes, I was a new friend. Satan slung his arm over my shoulder, and we walked through the Devildom as a pair, me enjoying a cigarette for the first time in Hell and Satan asking various questions about my gender identity. He found me fascinating. For the first time, I wasn’t treated as the circus freak, destined to be put in a cage to be mocked and laughed at. I could just be me, my absolute and true authentic self. 

He leaned in toward me. “I want you to know that you can confide in me in all things. Should you need anything, I will be at your aide.” I took a deep drag from my cigarette pensively. “I mean it.”  
“Cheers mate, I appreciate it.” Satan’s face was a picture, I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Not a ‘mate’ kind of guy, huh?”  
“Absolutely not.” His eyes glowed with just a hint of warning, even though his smirk could certainly be mistaken for friendly. He held back instinctively to let me go first through the door into Hell’s Kitchen, and when I turned to glance at him, he offered me an apologetic shrug. Ladies first. I hate that it bothered me, but he couldn’t be blamed - Satan is an absolute gentleman and, in all fairness, my gender fluidity is very much news to him. We lined up at the bar and I ordered us two bottles of Demonus. The succubus bartender eyed me up, but I wasn’t even remotely interested in her.  
“Oh Satan, who’s your friend? He’s new around these parts, isn’t he?” Her beady black eyes scrutinised me.  
“Roz, this is Frankie. And yes, he is new around here.” Roz leaned over, her chest resting upon the bar top. I wasn’t impressed at her attempt to get tips.   
“Well Frankie, if you ever need someone to show you around the Devildom, I’ll make sure you have a good time…” She trailed off with a wink as she bit on her lower lip, pushing my bottle of Demonus across the bar to me. I pursed my lips with a raised eyebrow and took my drink as I wandered over to a booth with Satan.

“Eesh, she’s something else, isn’t she?” I muttered to my blonde-haired companion. He laughed,  
“Are we not a fan of Roz?”  
“I don’t swing that way,” I explained before taking a large swig of my drink. “And she certainly couldn’t change my mind.” His brow raised in curiosity before taking a sip of his own.  
“I see. Anyway, here’s to boy’s night.” Satan’s bottle was lifted towards me. My bottle clinked with his, and he commemorated the moment by saying something I had not yet heard of when I said ‘cheers’.  
“What was that?”  
“Oh,” He chucked, swallowing down his sip. “It was Enochian, and I only said the equivalent to your cheers, good health, prost, salud… It’s a poor habit that I’ve gained from my brothers, even down in the Devildom they have a tendency to use the Angel’s tongue.” I frowned, unsure why demons would speak in the Angelic language, but dismissed it regardless. I suppose with all the desire to forge a unity between the three realms it would only be reasonable to make an effort to practice the languages and adopt some of their customs.  
“Well, whatever it is, you’ll have to teach it to me!”


	5. A Hangover From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankie discovers that Satan can be a bad influence, and they awaken with a hangover to prove it.

**Satan** \- _Frankie, will you be joining us for breakfast this morning? S_

Blinded by the light of my DDD, I winced to read the message. Food was the last thing on my mind right now. I’m not a religious guy, but please God, remind me to never drink Snake Bile Vodka shots ever again - I beg you. I’ll be good, I swear. How the room could still be spinning after this long was far beyond the widths of my own comprehension. Squinting, my clumsy fumbling fingers typed out a reply.

**Frankie** \- _I’ll give it a miss thanks... Who’s bright idea was it do shots? Frankie_

**Satan** \- _Ah, has someone lost their appetite? And I do believe it was your bright idea, actually. S_

My foggy memory transported me back to the mass of empty demonus bottles, the Snake Bile Vodka shots, and at one point I’m sure Satan and I shared an entire bottle of Escorpion De La Muerte Tequila.. In fact, now I come to think of it; I’ve got a growing suspicion that some part of the night included me wearing a sombrero, doing body-shots off of Roz’s mahogany abdominals. My face contorted to a grimace as hazy recollections began to flood back to me. I’ve never drank so much in my life, and I felt like this could be the end for me. I’d never make it out of Hell alive, this much I was sure.

**Frankie** \- _Next time, try to be a better influence over me… I feel like I’m dying. Frankie”_

**Satan** \- _Now now, I thought my reputation had preceded me in your world. You’re sorely mistaken if you think the evil and wicked Satan would be a good influence. S”_

As I burped a wretched bubble of bile stung my throat, the taste of last night’s alcoholic concoction made my stomach turn and caused me to retch. Fuck, I’m going to be sick. Hand clasped to my mouth, it took all of the energy left within me to kick away the covers and dash to the en-suite bathroom. I hung my pounding head woefully over the toilet and indulged in my own self-pity. I painted the porcelain bowl as if I were Jackson Pollock. 

A knock on the bedroom door startled me, and soon I came to realise that I may have drifted asleep with my cheek resting on the ebony toilet seat. My attempts to raise my heavy head from the toilet failed miserably. “Go away!” I growled feebly, and upon feeling my disorientated head thump in protest of my raised vocal volume I immediately regretted it.  
“Francesca, as a student of RAD I must remind you that you are expected to manage your own time wisely. If you don’t leave soon you shall be late, and it will be marked on your attendance record. I assure you that tardiness will not be tolerated. Now, get up.” Lucifer snarled coldly from the hallway. My stomach turned like a key in a lock, and before I could steel myself, another wave of vomit coursed through me and splattered against the back of the toilet bowl. “Francesca? Are you unwell?” I groaned at the name... Please, just call me Frankie - it'd be easier for both of us.  
“Yeah,” I croaked out pitifully between panicked breaths. “I’m not going in.” Lucifer’s huff was audible even through the walls.  
“Understood. I’ll get Barbatos to send for a doctor, it’s what Diavolo would want.” My gut twisted painfully again.  
“No, no need. It’s self-inflicted.” My eyes closed, praying for this pain to end.  
“Hm. I see. I’ll have Mammon bring you up to speed on your studies later.”  
“Uh, could Satan do it instead?” The words came out as a pathetic mumble, but it seems that the keen-sensed Avatar of Pride heard me regardless.  
“Satan? Well… If you insist.” Lucifer paused, “Ensure that you are better by the afternoon. It would disappoint Diavolo if you were to get behind on your studies this soon into your exchange program." 


End file.
